


People Like Us

by spiderhamsaidgayrights



Series: Noir Isn't "Normal": The Author is Heavily Projecting [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Racism, Trans, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Characters, Trans Miles Morales, also ham is trans but its p minor, also noir is jewish and keeps kosher, cursing, mentions of nazi censorship, mentions of nazis, talk of mastectomy and hrt, tbh they're all trans bcoz i make the rules but miles and noir are explicitly transgender here, trans author, trans spider noir, trans spiderman noir, v v briefly that last one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 23:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17395607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderhamsaidgayrights/pseuds/spiderhamsaidgayrights
Summary: After a long fight, the gang lies down for a nap and Noir and Miles have a talk. (It's about being trans. Because they're both trans.)





	People Like Us

**Author's Note:**

> okay technically synthetic testosterone wasn't invented until 1935 and noir is from 1933 so either in his universe they figured it out earlier or its just two years after canon, you decide  
> unfortunately, a google for the number of nipples pigs have is now in my history. i guessed right, but googled it because god forbid i mess up the number of teats ham had to have surgically removed.  
> also i made the pig trans, because i can.

“Jesus, Noir, no wonder you called for backup.” Peter B groaned, stretching his back with an audible crack before dropping onto a sofa, mask discarded.

 

The spider gang stuck out like a sore thumb in Noir’s universe, much less his apartment. The shock of their color-- any at all-- frightened many of his dimension’s denizens, and, with Noir’s hesitance to ask for help, meant that he rarely called for assistance. They knew what they were getting into-- Noir would never force any of them to fight, no matter the circumstance-- but a 20-foot tall Nazi experiment was enough to wear out anyone, and containing the fire after the P.I. disposed of the laboratory only added to their exhaustion.

Ham was already asleep-- stuck to Noir’s shoulder, his favorite perch. The man carefully removed the pig and set him down on an ottoman, draping a nearby blanket over Ham. He walked over to Peni, who was leaning on a wall, softly snoring. Noir scooped up the girl and tucked her into the only bed in the apartment. Her robot was covered by a canvas upstairs, unable to squeeze into the apartment. Gwen sprawled out on the couch adjacent to PB, hair flaring out under her head. Miles stepped into the bathroom, next to the bedroom.

Noir sighed, putting up his hat and various other accoutrement, trench coat still covering his shoulders. He made his way to the small kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove. His apartment was cramped, but at least it wasn’t the tenements his aunt had spoke of growing up in. Families of eight or more, cramped into less than 300 feet. He grit his teeth at the thought. The poor and immigrant communities were crushed under the heel of the wealthy. No wonder his aunt and uncle were socialists.

 

Miles splashed water on his face. He combed a wet hand through his hair, breathing a sigh of relief. He had worried throughout the fight that his costume would tear. Revealing his skin wasn’t as significant in his friends’ dimensions, but he figured that the 1930s would not do well with his lack of white-ness. He shook his head quickly, feeling the moisture dry on his skin, and stepped out of the bathroom. He traced the wall with his fingertips as he followed the humming in the kitchen. His hand grazed a picture frame hung on a wall. A couple, middle aged, holding a young girl in between them. Even in a tight bun and old-fashioned clothing, he recognized the woman as May.

_The man must be Ben, but who is the girl in the middle?_

 

Miles entered the kitchen, Noir pouring himself a cup of tea.

“Would you like a cup?” The older man asked.

Miles nodded.

“I thought you’d be taking a nap.” Noir said, reaching for another cup.

“Nah. Too strung-out, I guess.” He sat at the small wooden table.

“Me too, kid.”

 

The two sat at the table, sipping at their mint tea.

“So…..” Miles shifted his eyes away from Pete awkwardly. “Who’s the girl with your aunt and uncle in the picture by the bedroom?”

Noir pursed his lips. “Ah. That photograph.”

“Is she like… your cousin?”

“The kid’s me, when I was a youngin.”

“Oh.” Miles paused. “ _Oh._ ”

“Hope it don’t bother you, kid.”

“No-- it--” Miles bit his lip. “Me too.”

Pete’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You look good, son.”

“Thanks. I’m-- hormone therapy stuff doesn’t exist in this time, does it?”

“If you know the right people, it does.” Noir smirked.

“Really?” Miles’ eyes widened.

“I had a lot of letters with Berlin’s Institute of Sex Research. It is-- was the best resource for people like you and me.”

“Was?”

“The Nazis fucking burnt it to a crisp.” His hands clenched around his cup of tea.

“Oh.” He stared into his teacup.

 

Noir took a long sip. “Is it better? In your time?”

“A lot of people are still against it, but a lot of people are supportive. It’s a mixed bag.” He answered.

Noir hummed in response.

“But I can freely get hormones, and my name and gender marker are legally changed. New York is better about it than most other states.”

Pete cracked a grin. “That’s good. I had to forge my birth certificate.”

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t get to be as good of a vigilante flatfoot as I am without picking up a few skills.”

Miles smiled.

 

“Y’know, I’ve been living as a man for twenty years. Got the mastectomy ten or so years back.”

“What did you do before the mastectomy?” Miles asked.

“Lots of layers. Thank God it’s always cold and raining.” Noir chuckled.

Miles nodded. “Yeah. I’m glad my Peter’s Aunt May is a genius. The suit has a weird fancy built in binder thing. It doesn’t hurt though, and I can jump around and stuff in it.”

“Maybe she can sell them, for extra lettuce.”

Miles held back a laugh at Noir’s old-timey slang. “That’s not a bad idea.”

 

“Did your aunt and uncle know?”

“Sure did.”

“My Uncle Aaron was the first person I told. He even helped pay for the testosterone.” Miles traced the edge of his cup. “I got a binder before that, otherwise he would’ve bought me one, too.”

Noir thought back on Miles’ previous statements about this ‘binder’. He hunched that it was an alternative to the linen wraps he used early on, before discarding them when they restricted his movement and hurt his chest.

My aunt and uncle helped me, had some friends in Berlin who knew of the institute. Helped me get the double mastectomy.” Noir sipped at his tea.

“Jeez, I didn’t know the ‘30s had all this stuff.”

“People like us? We always find a way.”

 

They washed out the cups, sleeves rolled up.

The sound of running water woke Ham, who trotted over to the kitchen.

“Please tell me you didn’t make bacon.”

“Wouldn’t you have smelled it already?” Miles raised his eyebrows.

“Porker, you know I keep kosher.” Noir playfully rolled his eyes.

“I kid, I kid.” The pig jumped into one of the chairs at the table.

“I heard what you were talking about.” He said.

“And what about it?” Noir responded.

“And me also.”

Noir and Miles gave each other a confused look. Noir cocked an eyebrow. Miles shrugged.

Ham scoffed. “I’m not kidding. Do you know how much a duodecuple mastectomy costs? Toontown doesn’t have universal healthcare.”

“You’d think it would, with all of the heavy falling objects.” Miles remarked.

“Kid, if you knew about all of the inconsistencies in my universe, you’d get a headache.”

“Bet.”

 

And so the three spent the next few hours poking fun and getting unreasonably angry about a cartoon universe, involving more and more of the gang as they were awoken by the sound of yelling. Noir had a feeling he would get a noise complaint the next day, but looking at all of their faces, smiling even while ranting passionately about a universe they had visited once or twice, it would be worth it. (Gwen had leaped off a building and didn’t begin to fall until she looked down, where she ALMOST collided with the ground if she hadn’t been as quick as she was, and then next time, it didn’t happen at ALL.)

He smiled contently.


End file.
